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She was power. She was beautiful. She was fearless.
His Goddess.
The light to his shadow.
Chapter Twelve
Gwen moved slowly, her heart pounding as she led Sirus to the edge of the bed. She wasn’t even entirely sure how she’d conjured that ball of light, only that she’d wanted to see him, and her magick had bubbled up in answer.
She hadn’t expected him to look so torn. Tormented. The worry in his eyes…not for himself but for her. It wasn’t until that moment that Gwen felt like she was beginning to truly understand him. The life he’d lived. The loneliness and rejection.
I do not trust myself, Gwendolyn.
The words had pierced her heart. She trusted him. So much. But he couldn’t understand. Couldn’t feel what she felt.
She stopped and turned to him when she felt the bedcovers brush against her thighs. She wanted him. Her body ached to be near him. But she wanted more than passion and hunger. Gwen felt his trepidation and knew she needed to take this slow.
Cast in the darkness, she breathed him in deep. The spice and tree that she’d known since the beginning. She ran her hands up his arms, his shoulders, until they fell to his neck. He tensed under her touch. She wanted to take the tension away.
Slowly, she touched him. Down the front of his shirt, along the grooves of his muscled chest. She teased at the shirt’s hem. “I want to touch you,” she whispered.
The movement was quick as he pulled the fabric off, leaving her room to explore. Her fingers traced over his stomach. Over lines and indents she knew were countless scars, some long healed. Some new. They stood like that for what felt like hours. Gwen relished his soft breaths and growls as she charted every inch of him.
“I want to see you,” she told him.
Without a word, he moved away from her. She heard his steps and movements near the hearth. Soon, a soft orange glow filled the space, growing as the fire took hold.
He stood for a moment, looking down into the flames. When he looked up, her chest tightened. He was so beautiful. The swirls of tattoos consumed almost all of him, broken only by those countless scars she’d felt beneath her fingers. His expression was softer than she’d ever seen it before. Almost as if he were lost. Lost to her.
“Come here,” she beckoned him.
His jaw tensed as he stood watching her. He didn’t move. Not immediately. Eventually he stepped slowly, as if waiting for her to change her mind.
When he was standing in front of her again, she lifted her hands to his chest. He closed his eyes, as if lost in the pleasure of her touch. It made her feel heady and powerful. She ran a finger over the scar of a wound that must have nearly struck his heart. He took in a breath. Gwen touched another scar near his collarbone, this one small but clearly deep. A low rumble filled his chest. When she neared the freshest mark, at his stomach, he took in a sharp breath and looked down. There was a warning in his eyes. An unease.
“I’ll be gentle,” she told him.
One of her fingers caressed the edge. Then another. He closed his eyes again and let out a sigh that was so overwhelming it nearly brought a tear to her eyes. As she took in the marks over his body, sadness began to creep over her. It became real. Knowing how much pain he must have suffered. Over and over.
He brushed her hair behind her ear, and her eyes shot up to his. “Do not feel sorrow for me,” he told her.
She let out a stuttered breath. This was who he was. A vampire by choice, marked by the way of life he’d been reborn into. A warrior.
Gwen filled the space between them, only a thin bit of fabric separating her skin from his. Sirus cupped her backside to pull her closer, but she didn’t lean up to kiss his lips. She kissed his chest, where one of his deeper scars lay.
“I want to taste you,” she whispered against his skin. He tensed beneath her, his fingers digging deeper. The moment her tongue traced the place where her breath had just touched, he rasped a groan. Gwen repeated her caress over the scar at his collarbone.
The shadows clawed around them, cutting out the dim firelight. “Gwendolyn,” he growled. A warning. A plea. It only encouraged her onward.
She pressed soft kisses against the remnants of carnage imprinted over him. Soon her mouth found his nipple. Gwen felt bold. He made her feel bold. She flicked her tongue over it, and he hissed. The sound sent her core throbbing. She did it again. His fingers dug deeper into her ass, and he breathed harshly.
Gwen felt his desire growing, but she wasn’t done with him yet. She wrapped her hands around his middle, dug her nails into his back, and nipped delicately at his sensitive flesh.
“Fuck,” he bit out. “If you don’t stop?—”
Her eyes flashed up to meet his. She nipped again, challenging him.
Sirus growled low as he stared down at her, those piercing, frost-blue eyes clouded with desire. He pulled her frame harder against him so that she could feel his length against her belly. It sent a shockwave rioting through her sex. Then all she felt was hunger.
